May I Use Your Restroom?
by britishsconesahoy
Summary: All Alfred had asked for was to use his bathroom. But was that really too much to ask?


**Title: May I Use Your Restroom?**

 **Summary: All Alfred had asked for was to use his bathroom, but was that really too much to ask?**

 **Warning: murder, blood, and all that kind of stuff. You have been warned.**

 **Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me .**

* * *

Driving around alone on some rural road in the middle of no man's land at two o'clock in the morning with a broken GPS and no signal for your cell phone is never a good idea.

Alfred didn't know that though. He also didn't know where he was, or exactly what time it was, as his car's clock happened to be broken as well. But there was thing he did know.

He really had to pee.

He was almost just about ready to stop the car and simply relieve himself outside in the vast ocean of darkness and nothingness that seemed to surround him. But the idea was temporarily put on hold as Alfred caught sight of a light in the distance. The closer he got, the more he could make it out. There was a small, dainty little cafe sitting on the side of the road with a faint glow of a light shining from the front window.

Nothing about the place's existence raised any alarm bells in Alfred's mind as he swiftly pulled into the deserted looking parking lot. The oddity of its location didn't bring about any bit of confusion to Alfred, and the fact that it resembled a rundown shed didn't raise any suspicion either. But then again, the man really just needed a toilet. He could think about these things after he unloaded his full bladder.

The door almost fell off its hinges as Alfred opened it, and once again, he paid no attention. There were only two tables in the small, one room cafe, each with two chairs that were sure to collapse if one sat down on them. The cafe itself seemed to be stuck in the past, as even the old, chipped floor tiles looked original.

The cafe was empty of people except for one. A white haired man stood behind the old, wooden counter, a faded, ripped notebook laying face forward in front of him and a bottle with no lable held firmly in his hand. A cheerful smile lit up his face, transforming his older appearance to that of an innocent child.

"Hello, but I'm afraid we're closed now until-"

"No, that's alright." Alfred insisted, cutting the cafe owner off as he quickly tried to explain himself. He could feel himself just about ready to wet his pants. "May I use your restroom?"

The smile on the other man's face seemed to grow bigger. "Sure, just follow me. It's right back here."

Sighing in relief, Alfred hurried to follow the man through a back door which led to a tiny hallway.

"It's the door at the end." The cafe owner instructed, as he pointed in the bathroom's direction.

"Thanks, uh-"

"Ivan." The cafe owner introduced himself. "Just call me Ivan."

"Thanks, Ivan."

The childlike demeanor Ivan seemed to possess automatically transitioned into a sadistic looking grin, but Alfred had already fled to the bathroom by that point, so he was completely unaware of the suspicious cafe owner who called himself Ivan.

* * *

Alfred couldn't think of a time he felt more satisfied. He had been awfully close to not making it in time, but he did, and, boy, did it feel good.

He quickly washed his hands, a content smile appearing on his face. Maybe Ivan would be able to tell him where he was, and maybe give him some directions.

Alfred reached for the doorknob and turned it, expecting the door to open as he did so. But strangely enough, it didn't. Alfred tried again, this time jiggling the doorknob a little. It was an old door, perhaps it just jammed sometimes.

After a few seconds though, Alfred started to worry a little.

"Ivan? I think the door is stuck! Can you help?"

No answer.

"Ivan?"

This time the light when out.

"Ivan! What the hell is going on?! Are you out there?!"

And that time the floor opened up.

Alfred's loud shriek sounded through the air as the floor literally opened up beneath him, his arms and legs flailing as his body parachuted down the hole of an eternity of darkness.

He then suddenly hit a hard surface, so maybe it wasn't an enternity.

But it was still dark.

Alfred groaned as the pain of the hit to his body came into effect. He was on his hands and knees, and he could feel the cold, stone, wet floor underneath them.

Wait, wet?

Alfred lifted a hand to his face, squinting his eyes to try and make out what sticky substance had glued itself to his hand. The darkness was too thick, though, so whatever it was just looked black, which didn't exactly narrow down his options.

There was another method though, it was risky, but it might work. He could taste it.

He couldn't see anything, and he couldn't hear anything, so his only source of information as to where he was was the liquid on his hand, and being that he couldn't see what it was, he might as well try to taste what it was.

Hesitantly, he brought his stained hand closer to his mouth, and after much debating, he took a tiny lick.

He processed the taste quickly and immediately identified it the same moment that the lights turned on, confirming that his accusation was indeed correct.

"Blood!"

With the lights now on, Alfred stared in horror at his blood stained hands. His eyes then seemed to wander to the ground underneath him, which showed him sitting in a puddle of red, possibly human, blood which then seemed to trail off in various ways around him. Lifting his eyes to follow the different paths of blood, Alfred gasped in horror as the rest of the room came into his view.

And it was a room that he was in. It was a small room with a stone floor and a brick wall with no windows. The only way out was the large, metal door which appeared to have about six different locks on it.

But the room wasn't empty, in fact, far from it. Aside from the blood staining the floor, a number of corpses sat in their dying positions throughout the room. Every time Alfred tried looking away, he was just met with another corpse, some with eyes closed, probably out of pain. Sone with their eyes open, almost like they were begging for someone to help them. Their clothes were torn, while some had their bones rotting away. And they all had blood, for the blood decking the stone floor was theirs.

Strangely enough, Alfred kind of wished for the lights to go back off.

He was only sitting there in the midst of death for about five minutes before the locks in the door appeared to be turning, and within a matter of seconds the door itself ooened up, revealing the cheerful, yet suspicious cafe owner. His face still looked cheerful, but there also seemed to be a murderous twinkle in his eye.

"So, did my bathroom serve you well?" Ivan asked innocently, almost as if they weren't surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies.

Alfred trembled, figuring death was upon him, but somehow managed to find his voice. "What is this place and what do you want from me?"

Alfred's fear of the man only grew as the smile on Ivan's face seemed to change to the sadistic one he had had once Alfred had turned away from him earlier.

"This is the basement." He said simply. "And I want to kill you."

Ivan was blocking the only way of escape, so Alfred did the only thing he could do, he backed up. He backed up so far that he accidentally knocked into one of various murder victims laying around. Alfred screamed as he did while Ivan just watched amused.

"You won't kill me! I'm going to get out of here!"

"Oh, really?" Ivan questioned. "None of my other victims managed to escape, as you can see, so what makes you so special?"

Alfred didn't have an answer, as he was asking himself too how he was going to get out.

"That's what I thought." Ivan said, as he pulled out a large knife from inside his coat. "Now, do you have any last words before I kill you?"

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

Ivan frowned as he then stabbed the knife into Alfred's chest. "That's what they usually say."

About ten minutes later, the cafe upstairs was in its usual setting again with Ivan sitting at the counter just as he was when Alfred had first walked in. The only difference was that now, the previously closed notebook on the counter was now opened and Ivan appeared to be writing something in it. When he was finished, he shut the notebook closed just in time to see a blonde, green eyed man walk into his cafe.

"Excuse me, but may I use your restroom?"

* * *

 **In case I didn't make it clear enough, that last guy was Arthur.**

 **So, yeah, this was just a random thing I thought about when wondering what would happen if you asked a serial killer to use his bathroom. It kind of makes you wonder, why do we trust people so much?**

 **Anyway, if you're a horror fan like me and are always thinking about what's the worst thing that could happen, then leave a review below and tell me what you thought! Thanks for reading!**

 **-britishsconesahoy**


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